


The Scout and the Medic

by grifs



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Brock has amazing biceps, I love zombie aus, Sadness, Zombie Apocalypse, bit gay, not gonna lie, so here you go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:44:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grifs/pseuds/grifs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i'm sorry for hugging you, but it's been a while since i've actually seen a non-zombie" au</p><p>-</p><p>or the one where since the fall, Brock lost almost everything, but finds himself again in Evan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a lift shaft? really?

Evan headed towards the building he’d scouted out yesterday morning. There weren’t many around when dawn had just broken. He used that sliver of time to scout out potential new safe-houses, and anywhere he could go on a supply-run.

He knew he didn’t really need to do it anymore, he was in Tapton, after all. Tapton was deserted; any survivors here had left after the walkers overran. The walkers themselves abandoned town once they realised there was no food here anymore. It was a ghost town, essentially. And Evan liked that. But he still scouted, it was a habit. After living with a group of survivors in the more dangerous suburbs and being the only one able to safely scout, he’d gotten used to it.

Evan missed them.

He didn’t know if they were alive, and so hadn’t a clue where they were.

When the fall happened, Evan was with a group of friends, and so had a decent starting point. They’d lost a few along the way, but the last time he’d seen them, all were okay. He hoped they still were.

Then they just disappeared. Evan didn’t even get to say goodbye.

If walkers had got them, Evan thought he’d know. That he’d have felt something. He still hasn’t yet. The hope that they are okay is probably the only thing keeping him alive.

He’d been alone for too long.  
-  
Evan reached the warehouse just before sunset, scrambling in through a window before it even got slightly dark. He’d never actually been out at night, but he’d heard the screams.  
He’d found the broken window on the second floor, and climbed up a scaffolding pipe. Since the fall, he’d gotten significantly better at parkour than he was before. He could remember when everything was new, and he had suddenly agreed to scout. He didn’t have any idea what he was doing. He would have given up at an open window on the first floor back then. Now, he thought, an entrance on only the second floor was a blessing.

Evan didn’t account for the amount of broken glass on the sill and the floor surrounding it, jumping through carelessly. He winced as his bare arm scraped against sharp glass. He lifted his hand from the floor where he’d landed to find fragments of glass stuck in his palm. He cursed under his breath, hoping no one heard his grand entrance. Luckily, the arm wasn’t his right, meaning he could still fight with ease. He sighed as he took in the surroundings.

The building was falling apart at the bottom, but further up, he noticed it seemed intact. Hopefully no one else had spotted that, and had looted the place before Evan got here. He didn’t have high hopes.

-

Evan made his way up a few floors. Inside, the building seemed like a hotel, but he knew it was apartments. They looked so nice, but so small. He wondered who lived here. Or, who could afford to live here.

He tried the handles of the first couple doors, all which opened or were open before. Evan couldn’t tell whether this was a bad or a good sign. It either meant people had been here and looted, or people left in such a hurry that they abandoned most of their belongings.

Evan didn’t really mind if he couldn’t find anything of use. The locks on the doors were solid, and most had extra windows at the back that he’d use as emergency escape routes. He’d probably stay here a few nights regardless of the haul.

His arm ached as he searched the last room, the only found items being a flashlight with batteries and a small book. He loved finding books, they gave him something to do, something to forget about the situation. He never liked reading before, but now he’d read every single book he’d ever found. Evan thought he was pretty qualified to be a writer, now.

His way back was the same hall he walked through before, with a red carpet and beige off-coloured walls. The thought of him, with his shabby backpack and torn jeans, standing in this hallway before the fall made him laugh to himself. He’d look so out of place; he wondered whether he’d count the amount of people that gave him a strange look.  
He reached the stairs, and was about to open the door to the stairwell when he stopped dead. He swore he heard a cough. As in, an almost-human cough.

So he panicked.

He took a deep breath – he’d always had trouble calming himself down – and tried to think logically. He looked around the hall, finding nothing he could potentially defend himself with.

He heard a cough again, and listened to where it was.

Right next to him.

Probably in the lift shaft.

If that was a walker, Evan was fucked.

In his distraction, Evan again scraped his still bleeding forearm across the wall. This time, though, he wasn’t able to hold back the cry of pain. He winced, not from the pain, but since he’d made a loud noise.

Evan had run into walkers before, and even half-bodies, but never this close. And never without someone else there. He was terrified.

Immediately after making sound, Evan shut his mouth and closed his eyes. His muscles never moved an inch, the fear eating at his entire body.

He heard movement, now, from the lift shaft. Evan thought his heart stopped. Another cough, a groan.

“Please don’t be a zombie, I swear.”

The mutter sounded distinctly human. Evan had to take a second to actually acknowledge the voice. He’d only heard his own for a while.

When it sank in, he snapped out of the fear. It was only marginally less, but still, he looked at the positives.

Evan peered over the edge of the open lift doors, and was met with the face of a man – who certainly didn’t look like a walker.

The dark haired man stared up at him, the shock on his face probably reflected tenfold on Evan’s. The man looked older than Evan, but his build could most likely beat Evan’s own.

Evan narrowed his eyes at the man. “You get bit?”

The man shuffled around, and stood up. The lift had stopped a while down from the doors, meaning the clearly 6 foot tall survivor was too short to reach up to the aperture.

“No, I didn’t – just a couple of scratches.” He shook his head.

Evan still didn’t trust the man, even though the man's face felt trustworthy. He stepped backwards so Evan could see his whole body – he couldn’t see a bite mark.

Evan nodded, then sighed. “Alright, how are we gonna do this?” Evan gestured to the lift.

The man smiled. “I’ve got no idea.”

Evan smiled back, shrugging off his backpack and leaning it against the wall behind him. He laid on his stomach and pulled himself towards the edge of the doors. He reached down with his good arm.

The man stepped forward and reached up to Evan, as they grabbed each other’s forearms.

“There is, like, footholds or something, right?"

“Yeah, think so.”

Evan laughed when he began to pull the other man up and out of the hole, “don’t let me fall in there with you, man.” He desperately hoped the older didn’t hear the fear in his voice when he joked.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The other man shared the laugh, happy Evan had said something.

Climbing out was surprisingly easy with Evan’s help, and the older was up on the ground in almost no time.

Evan didn’t move, even after the man had left go of him. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen now.

“Hand up, buddy?”

Evan looked at the older’s outstretched hand, and grabbed it to pull himself up.

Before Evan knew what was happening, the other man had suddenly pulled him into a hug. His defences lasted all of a second before he caved and tightly hugged this stranger back.

The contact didn’t last long, but Evan felt so much better. It felt like he hadn’t had a hug in forever.

“I’m sorry for hugging you,” the man laughed nervously, “but it’s been a while since I’ve actually seen a non-zombie.”

Evan laughed back. “Me too, man. It’s alright. I haven’t had a hug in a while.”

“Brock,” the older held his hand out to Evan.

“Evan.” The scout shook Brock’s hand with confidence.

The smile on Brock’s face didn’t last long, though, and Evan started to worry.

“Hey, whoa, the fuck did you do to your arm?”

Evan had forgotten about that for a second, until Brock’s cold fingers grabbed it to look. Evan panicked again.

“I wasn’t bitten, dude.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s glass. Broken window?”

“Um, yeah but-”

“We need a first-aid kit, you got one?”

“I don’t. But really, it’s not that bad.” Evan tried to pull his arm away, to no avail.

“Yeah, it is, man. Trust me.”

“Why, you a doctor?” Evan snapped, getting frustrated with the Brock’s apparent concern.

“Kinda. Army medic, who actually went to med school.”

“Oh, I-”

Brock brushed him off. “Is there a hospital near here?”

Evan hesitated, “Yeah, but,” he looked out the window, “it’s almost dark.”

Brock finally looked back up at his face.

“That’s gonna get infected if we don’t go. You didn’t pull me out of that stupid lift-shaft so I could watch you die. Come on.” Brock grabbed his own backpack, and pulled it over his shoulders, looking expectantly at Evan.

Evan bit his lip as he looked out the window. He’d just met the guy – a complete stranger – and here he was, about to walk through the streets at night with him.

Evan sighed. “Fine.”

He tightened the straps on his backpack, terrified it’d fall off when they started running.

-


	2. guide me, moron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where since the fall, Brock lost almost everything, but finds himself again in Evan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i really liked this au and i had loads of ideas for it, so here's another chapter. more of the crew will be introduced later, but i'm still not entirely sure where i want this to go. anyways, as always, i hope ye enjoy ;w;

Evan’s heartbeat pounded inside his head. His fingers were now as white as a sheet, a stark contrast to his face which was red with sweat, but they still gripped the pack tightly. He looked over his shoulder to the stranger following him, checking Brock hadn’t fallen behind. His own fear was gradually overwhelming him, but the fear of his sudden responsibility for the older survivor had crept so abruptly up without Evan’s knowledge. Now his constant fear seemed miniscule – he had hated being alone, but he had forgotten how it felt to have someone dependent on you.

With the pounding subsiding in his head, he was able to take in more of his surroundings. He heard Brock’s laboured pants from behind him, noticing the small clouds of hot air that he himself was exhaling as he ran. He wasn’t sure how long they had been running for. He hoped he remembered where the hospital was as he didn’t think it was too far now.  
The alley they ran down wasn’t familiar to Evan, as he stuck to travelling across roofs, and on main roads when he could help it. He realised it’d be faster and probably safer if he used the backstreets, but the idea of being cornered by a walker? That scared him more than the main roads did.

Brock muttered a curse behind him, and his back slammed against the wall after Brock grabbed his shirt sleeve, pulling him back into a doorway. Their eyes met, and Brock’s hand rested on Evan’s shoulder, silently telling him not to move. Evan was subconsciously holding his breath, as was Brock.

Closing his eyes, he listened to everything – anything that pierced the silence, Evan heard it. Then, there it was. Groans and scratching filled the stale air. He’d heard this before. No-one dared leave at night, but they still needed food. So sometimes, they attacked each other, resulting in bloody fights and the smell of rotting flesh being a hell of a lot more potent than before. Both men stayed, rooted to the spot, until it was almost silent again.

Brock exhaled, and Evan took that as his cue to do the same, relaxing his strained muscles. Evan hadn’t noticed Brock’s hand leaving his shoulder, and he felt rather cold without it.

Brock peered out of the doorway they had quickly taken refuge in, before stepping out.

“I think we’re good.” His voice came out as a whisper unintentionally, but Evan’s nerves were settled slightly by the words.

Evan nodded, “Alright, let’s go.”

Instead of running, the two fell into a steady pace, walking side-by-side. Both still listened intently to their surroundings – the darkness limiting their awareness, and so relying on their sense of hearing. They walked in a fearful, but comfortable, quiet.

-

Evan’s pace slowed as they reached the intersection between another alley and the main road. Brock automatically noticed the change, and matched Evan’s new speed. He stopped completely at the end of their alley.

St Juves Infirmary was just ahead of them, the white decrepit building lighting a smile on Brock’s face. Evan had almost forgotten about his arm after Brock had pulled a clean jumper from his pack to use as a makeshift bandage. He didn’t even know if it was still bleeding.

“It hurts now we’re here, doesn’t it?”

Evan breathed out a laugh quietly, “Yeah, actually.”

“That’s because,” Brock was breathing heavily, “pain isn’t a physical thing. So, your body decided other things, like surviving, were more important than telling you that’s not right.”

Evan made a sound of approval, and the older started towards the building, with the younger following behind him.

Evan simultaneously attempted to keep following the medic, whilst studying the building he was walking into. He noticed the still flickering ER room lights focusing the closer he got. There was overgrowing plants in the car park - and a small part of his twisted stomach relaxed. He stopped Brock and pointed him towards the smaller, side doors where Evan hoped the clumsier man wouldn’t disturb the area more than he should.

Brock hadn’t the keen eye that Evan had - and whispered into the darkness.

“What if there’s people in there, man?”

Evan shook his head before remembering he couldn’t see the action, and so whispered back.

“There aren’t.”

Brock paused before replying, and Evan sensed unease in his voice. It was even quieter now than before.

“How do you know?”

“I’ll explain when we’re inside, but trust me. Please, Brock.”

Brock didn’t seem happy, but accepted his words. Evan gracefully kicked the door open, smirking at his companion’s expression - he couldn’t see it, but he knew. He pulled his pack off one shoulder, reaching round to find his flashlight. He pressed the switch, not knowing he was facing Brock - whom squinted in surprise. Evan apologised, and turned to look at the hallway in front of him.

“You probably know where we’re going better than me.”

“You’re asking me to lead?” Brock chuckled.

“No, I’m asking you to guide me, moron.”

“Oh.” They laughed quietly, neither man upset they’d broken the silence.

“Uh, okay,” Brock paused, looking around himself, “give me that for a second.” He took the flashlight, and followed the wall on his left with the beam.

After a few wrong turns, and Evan commenting about Brock not letting him consult the map or ask a stranger, they found the room Brock was looking for.

“I spent two years in one of these but I didn’t realise how hard it was to navigate dark, holy shit.” Brock laughed, as he opened drawers and retrieved various items. Evan had sat on the table opposite the window.

“Everything is hard to navigate dark, man.” Evan was ignoring the burning pain he’d been ignoring for the past few hours.

“Oh shut up, Evan.” With that, the room fell into quiet again, only sounds of Brock clinking metal tools together. Finally he picked up his first-aid kit, and sauntered over to Evan.  
Evan still winced regardless of how carefully the medic pulled the sweater off his arm. Brock apologised, then told him it was probably going to hurt a hell of a lot more than that. He grimaced at Evan’s curse, then at the mess that was his arm. He knew it was going to be tough - no amount of anaesthetic that he could use now would possibly help. He’d noticed Evan’s breathing rate increasing since they’d set off, assuming their running had caused it. Now that they’d been stationary for a while and his panting hadn’t stopped, Brock was getting slightly worried.

Brock gathered up the cotton wool, pressing it on Evan’s arm. The younger winced, and Brock’s mind filled with images - he’d forgotten how similar this situation was to in the field. Instead of crumbling completely, though, Brock steeled himself and carried on regardless. He figured he’d stem the blood before attempting to put stitches in.

“So,” Brock absentmindedly made conversation, “you gonna tell me how you knew no one was in here?”

Evan paused to grimace, “Well, the parking lot? It was overgrown.”

“Which means…”

Evan raised his eyebrows at the medic; “unless everyone in here were extremely experienced Scouts, that would never have been so untouched.”

Brock nodded, taking a deep breath as he pressed the wool harder onto Evan’s arm.

“You know, I’ve never understood what the point of this role thing is.”

“I think”, Brock sighed, “it’s just the way people dealt with it, y’know? Like, having set things, it feels more like a game or a story.”

The room fell into silence once again. Evan’s senses were heightened after the adrenaline rush, so he silently listened to the older’s even breaths, the shuffling of his feet every so often, and the blinking of his torch’s dying batteries.

After a few minutes of Evan sitting softly, Brock spoke up.

“Ev?”

“Yeah?”

The medic cringed, “this is going to hurt.”

Evan opened his eyes, looking at Brock holding a wet cloth and a needle in his hands. Brock must have noticed his eyes widen, and gave him a sympathetic glance.

“It’ll hurt less if you look away.”

Evan swallowed, before tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling above him.

-

Brock cleaned up quietly, not wanting to wake the other. He’d looked around some, and found a few supplies that he stuffed into his already full backpack. He sat down in the chair next to a sleeping Evan and put his head in his hands.

“How the hell did I end up with a Scout?” He muttered under his breath. He shook his head - it had happened now, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Brock pulled his legs up and curled up on the chair, before letting himself sleep. It’d been a long day.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ending is absolute shite sorry but I just really wanted to post this

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty ooc IM SORRY i tried
> 
> idk about this man but thanks for reading ayyyo -charlie :)


End file.
